THE ULTIMATE SHORT STORY COLLECTION
- Leituras 177
- Votos 72
- Capítulos 7
MaduroEm andamento23m
Última atualização dom, set 25, 2022
These stories were written with reluctant or weak readers in mind. Thus, the first few stories are quite short to encourage these readers to continue. The stories can, ofcourse be read in any order, but I have arranged them from the shortest (368 words) to the largest over (4000 words).
The stories are also for those of us who dislike unnecessary details or elaborate descriptions in a tale, and just want to get to the point within a few pages and not waste any time about it. I have endeavoured to do this as much as I could with these tales by being concise and setting a fast pace.
It was a delight to write each and every story in this book; I can only hope and pray that you, Dear Reader, will find them delightful, too. Thank you for granting your precious time to my stories and me. I trust that I will not disappoint...
***
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or deceased is definitely coincidental, otherwise it would be freaky!
©The images used in the book are from various Pinterest images
©2022 Dylan Abrahams, Cape Town, South Africa
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Madisyn Connelly, or MC as people called her, considered staring at the wall for the next hour a viable entertainment option. Her life was, to put it mildly, predictable. Wake, work, maybe catch a movie, sleep, repeat. The thrill was gone, replaced by the beige monotony of suburban existence. That's when her phone buzzed. It was a text message from an unknown number: "Hello? Are you there?" Madisyn sighed. Just another wrong number. She typed back, "Wrong number, sorry." and went back to contemplating the life she was living. The reply came instantly: "No matter how I put this, it'll sound crazy. I've gone over this many times in my head." Followed by "Wait a sec. I have to add the others first. Please don't go." Thomas, Cleo, Dan, Richy, Jessy... These names were strangers only moments ago and now resonated with a strange urgency. "We need to ask, How do you know Hannah Donfort?" Madisyn hesitated. She was about to send another dismissive reply, but a flicker of... something... stopped her. Boredom? Curiosity? A subconscious yearning for something more? "I don't know anyone named Hannah," she typed adding a question mark at the end, unsure why she was even bothering. The next text chilled her blood: "Hannah's my girlfriend and she disappeared. Three days ago to be exact." And so began Madisyn's unwanted adventure. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was somehow connected to this Hannah, these people, this desperate plea. Madisyn's heart hammered. Worried texts, Hannah's disappearance, Madisyn's phone number on Hannah's phone... it all pointed to something far more sinister than a simple misunderstanding. The search led her down dark alleys and into smoky bars. She faced threats, endured intimidation, and felt the cold grip of fear more times than she could count. She had discovered that even in the most ordinary of lives, there was the potential for extraordinary courage, love, and power to make a difference. And it all started with the wrong number.Concluída
State of Heart
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State of Mind
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Knight in Sneakers
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Madisyn Connelly, or MC as people called her, considered staring at the wall for the next hour a viable entertainment option. Her life was, to put it mildly, predictable. Wake, work, maybe catch a movie, sleep, repeat. The thrill was gone, replaced by the beige monotony of suburban existence. That's when her phone buzzed. It was a text message from an unknown number: "Hello? Are you there?" Madisyn sighed. Just another wrong number. She typed back, "Wrong number, sorry." and went back to contemplating the life she was living. The reply came instantly: "No matter how I put this, it'll sound crazy. I've gone over this many times in my head." Followed by "Wait a sec. I have to add the others first. Please don't go." Thomas, Cleo, Dan, Richy, Jessy... These names were strangers only moments ago and now resonated with a strange urgency. "We need to ask, How do you know Hannah Donfort?" Madisyn hesitated. She was about to send another dismissive reply, but a flicker of... something... stopped her. Boredom? Curiosity? A subconscious yearning for something more? "I don't know anyone named Hannah," she typed adding a question mark at the end, unsure why she was even bothering. The next text chilled her blood: "Hannah's my girlfriend and she disappeared. Three days ago to be exact." And so began Madisyn's unwanted adventure. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was somehow connected to this Hannah, these people, this desperate plea. Madisyn's heart hammered. Worried texts, Hannah's disappearance, Madisyn's phone number on Hannah's phone... it all pointed to something far more sinister than a simple misunderstanding. The search led her down dark alleys and into smoky bars. She faced threats, endured intimidation, and felt the cold grip of fear more times than she could count. She had discovered that even in the most ordinary of lives, there was the potential for extraordinary courage, love, and power to make a difference. And it all started with the wrong number.
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